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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22703890">Searching</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaOnTheMoon/pseuds/AnnaOnTheMoon'>AnnaOnTheMoon</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Picard Fix-it Fics [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Trek: Picard</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Episode Tag, Gen, Spoilers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 03:27:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>804</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22703890</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaOnTheMoon/pseuds/AnnaOnTheMoon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Beverly continues to try to find where her husband is and what he is doing.</p><p>***SPOILERS for Star Trek Picard Episodes 1-3***</p><p>Note: Picard is not in this fic, but it is about him, hence the tag.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Beverly Picard/Jean-Luc Picard</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Picard Fix-it Fics [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1618306</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Searching</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Raffi Musiker stared at the blinking text in the bottom of her screen.</p><p>
  <em>*Incoming call.  Beverly Picard*</em>
</p><p><em>Shit, </em>she thought.  With a sigh, she activated the monitor. </p><p>“Hey, B.”</p><p><em>“Hi Raffi, how are you?”  </em>Beverly peered at her friend. Raffi’s hair was a mess, she had dark circles under her eyes and Beverly could see at least one empty and one partially empty bottle of some kind of alcohol on her desk. </p><p>Raffi took a puff off her Horgl. “I’m fine.  But that’s not why you called.”  Beverly frowned.</p><p>
  <em>“Still smoking snake weed?”  </em>
</p><p>“Yeah.”  Raffi took another puff.  “You want to know if I’ve seen your husband.”  Beverly smiled. Always straight to the point</p><p><em>“I’m sorry.  But have you?”  </em>Raffi glared.</p><p>“It’s the only reason you’d lower yourself to call me, isn’t it?  It <em>has</em> to be about JL.”  Beverly lowered her eyes and studied her desk.  Raffi continued. “We used to be friends.  All of us.  You, Me, JL.  But then as soon as you both decided to retire to your cushy vineyard and I was left with this,”  Raffi waved her hand around her surroundings, “neither one of you ever bothered to check if I was alright. “  She glared.  “But oh.  JL needs a ship and you can’t find him, so suddenly it’s ‘<em>Raffi I need your help’</em>. I should tell you both to fuck off.” </p><p>“<em>I’m sorry,”</em>  Beverly spoke softly.  “<em>We should have...</em>I<em> should have kept in touch with you.”  </em></p><p>“Yeah, well...too late now.”  Raffi took another puff of her snake weed and threw back another tall glass filled with something dark.  “But I did see JL.  He wanted a pilot.  I told him to call my friend Chris.” </p><p>
  <em>“Chris?”</em>
</p><p>“Cristobal Rios.  Captain of the <em>La Sirena</em>.”  Beverly smiled.</p><p>“<em>Thank you, Raffi.  And I promise when I’m back on Earth we’ll get together.”</em></p><p>“Yeah, sure we will.”  Raffi stabbed at the end call button.  <em>Those damn Picards.</em></p><p>###</p><p>Beverly was staring at a young man with a neatly trimmed beard on her monitor who spoke with an exaggerated Brooklyn accent. </p><p>“Could you please connect me to Captain Cristobal Rios?”</p><p>
  <em>“Who would like to speak with him?”</em>
</p><p>“Doctor Beverly Picard.”  The man scoffed.</p><p>
  <em>“We don’t need a doctor. Goodbye.”</em>
</p><p>“Wait!  Would he speak to a fellow Captain?” </p><p><em>“Are you Starfleet?”  </em>Beverly shook her head. </p><p>“No.”</p><p><em>“One moment please.”  </em>Beverly drummed her fingers against the console on her personal shuttle.  She had already left her ship with plans to return to Earth to try to find her husband, but if he was <em>leaving</em>, then she needed to know where he was going.  The same man came back to talk to her, only this time, he had a different accent. </p><p>“<em>This is Rios.”</em></p><p>“Really?”  Beverly narrowed her eyes.  “You had to fake an accent before?” </p><p><em>“That was my holographic comms officer.  What can I do for you, Captain Picard?  Are you related to the ex-Admiral?”  </em>Beverly gritted her teeth.</p><p>“Yes.  I’m his wife.  Do you know where he is?”  Rios steepled his fingers together and pressed his fingers into his chin.</p><p>“<em>Nope.  And I </em>don’t<em> get involved in domestics.”  </em>Beverly sighed.</p><p>“This isn’t a domestic.  Look, my husband is ill and I’ve been told he was given your name by Raffi Musiker to find a ship.  I don’t know where he is or where he’s going.  Please help me. Captain to Captain.”   Rios gave Beverly a once over.  If her hair wasn’t streaked with grey, he’d have sworn she was half of Picard’s age.  Even so, she still didn’t look older than her fifties. Maybe sixties.  A slow grin spread across Rios’ face. </p><p><em>“Picard didn’t tell me he had such a beautiful wife.”  </em>Beverly rolled her eyes.</p><p>“Flatterer.  So.  Do you know where my husband is?” </p><p>
  <em>“Nope.  But I do know where he’ll be in three days.”  </em>
</p><p>“Oh?”  Beverly raised an eyebrow. </p><p><em>“Here.”  </em>Beverly narrowed her eyes. </p><p>“And, here is?”</p><p>“<em>On my ship.”  </em>It sounded like he had said ‘sheep’, and Beverly suppressed her giggle.</p><p>“I see. And your ship is?” Rios sighed.</p><p><em>“Orbiting Earth.  If you can get here in three days, you can see him. Otherwise,”  </em>Rios held out his arms, <em>“We’ll be gone.” </em>Beverly began pressing buttons on her console and not for the first time wished for her old friend Data who would have calculated her travel time down to the second. </p><p>“I can be there in fifty-six hours.  May I dock my shuttle on your ship?” </p><p>
  <em>“As long as it’s not Starfleet.  I take it you don’t want me to tell Picard?”</em>
</p><p>“No.  And I won’t be able to stay long. I just need to speak with him.”  Rios wiggled his eyebrows.</p><p><em>“And have a conjugal visit?”</em> Beverly rolled her eyes. </p><p>“I’ll see you in fifty-six hours.”  She stabbed off the connection.  Where had Raffi <em>found</em> this guy?</p>
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